![]() Every goblin that didn’t submit to capture and slavery was killed. Every goblin site that didn’t join Man or Dwarf was razed. This time, however, there would be no recreational raids, no allowed shadow of a goblin government, and no mercy. Convenient, then, that an elven hero and known Titan slayer appeared and killed the demonic overlord.īy the end of the year, the violence against goblins began again. They feared its power, and all that its existence implied, but they were too weak to challenge the goblin state as it was. In the wake of such devastation, a peace was brokered, and recovery began.įor a decade, things were calm, but Man and Dwarf were wary of the new goblin overlord. The resulting bloodbath was a stalemate technically, but the armed forces of both sides were fully destroyed in the conflict. It acted quickly, rallying the goblin military, and led a massive force to battle against the human/dwarf coalition. I suspect that a century of horror had forced the goblins down desperate paths, and that the beast was summoned intentionally. In the year 190, a demon emerged, who took leadership of the goblin nation. It seemed to be a monthly sport for the “civilized” factions to raid and slaughter goblins in their heartland, but never conquer them. ![]() Most of the conflict, however, was only raiding. He routed combined dwarf/human forces twice in defense of his hometown, only to be shot and killed near the end of the second battle.Ĭrushed between the strength of Man and the steel of Dwarf, and devoid of heroes, the goblins’ cause was hopeless, leading to the annexation of all their border states. These two fights were led by who must have been a great commander, General Malicehammer. This conflict lasted over a full century, and in that time, the goblins won just two battles. This habit grew in momentum until in the year 82 it erupted into open war between the goblins and their neighbors. Violence came easily between them, but always had a trend: Man and Dwarf killed Goblin. The Elves were untouched in the southern reaches, while Man, Dwarf, and Goblin were cramped between the northern mountain ranges and the Sea of Ghosts. The first 50 years of existence were a time of growth and expansion. The world was only 250 years old, but what bloody years they were. Then, while checking the civilizations screen, I noticed that the Dwarven General was no dwarf, he was a goblin! I immediately backed up the save and delved into Legends Mode… For a time, I suspected they were ever just a season away, and continued as I had. What was meant to be a FUN little adventure had instead grown into prosperity, with a full two years and hundred dwarves coming to pass before I realized the absence of our sworn foe. Artifacts came in three varities: weapons, armor, and doors. The dwarves sharpened their axes, and built strong their walls, and prepared for a time when the goblins would come. The first stone layer had both iron and coal, and steel ran in rivers from the forges. A castle was built, with parapets and gatehouse, moat and traps, which was ever painted red. Eventually, the harpy clan was driven off for good, and immigrants came, despite the danger.īlood became as water to the dwarves a life of constant violence beneath the perpetual deluge of crimson. The reclaim squad dealt with the ogres one by one, and used what supplies and burrows were already in place to begin the new community in earnest. The third attempt at a fortress was more of a success. ![]() When the game started, an ogre was already in the wagon. Their capitol was right there! So, a squad of seven recruits, armed and armored in copper with a contingent of war dogs, were shipped to Splatterwine. The goblins never arrived, so I resolved to continue to reclaim the fort until it attracted a proper goblin army. The last dwarf, a farmer, was beaten for three straight months by a pair of sock-wielding brutes, a scene which would be commemorated time and again by artifacts within the fortress. Eventually, the ogres crossed the river, and the fortress was destroyed in a futile attempt at defense. The fortress lived up to its name, as blood-rain came weekly and set half the map awash in the vitae of man. It went about as expected frequent harpy raids were set to the backdrop of an ogre tribe that watched hungrily from across the river. I geared up my seven dwarves, and sent them to their demise. It was supposed to be a suicide fort, a way to have a hilariously short and brutal game for that cathartic mad scramble to survive up until the bloody end, and I found the perfect place: The intersection of a savage jungle, fairy forest, and sinister swamp, placed at the ford of a central river, and the foot of a goblin fortress. Splatterwine was one of my best attempts at making a FUN fortress, simply because of the way the world was made. ![]()
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